


Hug

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21754150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: A ‘patient’ drops by.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 2
Kudos: 84





	Hug

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Julian physically leans closer, drawn by pure fascination, as the data streams by faster than any normal human could read it. He taps once to highlight a particular string, quickly filing it away for further study, continues on, and pulls out two more sections. He’s so close to a breakthrough that he can taste it. This could very well be the paper that puts his name on the metaphorical map.

Then he’s suddenly being attacked—two burly arms wrap around him, and Julian nearly jumps out of his skin. He opens his mouth to scream, but before the sound comes out, he feels the hard ridge of a familiar formation press against his cheek. He realizes that he’s being enveloped in a tight embrace. He exhales a bout of bundled tension at his life most definitely _not_ being in danger. 

His work certainly is. This particular distraction is a difficult one. Garak purrs over his shoulder, “You really must work on that, Doctor. You’re _far_ too easy to sneak up on.”

On the contrary, Julian has excellent senses. He can see and hear better than most of his colleagues, which is all the more reason why he should’ve noticed someone approaching him. Then again, this is clearly Garak’s field of expertise. Julian doesn’t let himself get riled up by the failure.

He notes instead, “I’m on duty, Garak. So unless you need medical attention...”

Garak coyly counters, “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

Julian easily answers, “Flirting with your doctor.”

“Ah. So we agree you’re _mine_ , then?” 

Julian’s console is just reflective enough to see the faint outline of Garak’s smile. He can practically hear the quiet chuckle in Garak’s voice. Julian doesn’t offer agreement, but he also doesn’t deny it. Garak murmurs, “But no. I was enjoying your warmth.”

Julian turns his face to see Garak properly, but Garak chooses that moment to disentangle them—he withdraws completely, stepping away enough that Julian can spin his chair around. Wearing the same deceptive grin as usual, Garak smoothly informs him, “As I’m sure you remember, this station is far too cold for a Cardassian. I’m sure that can’t be good for my health.”

Julian frowns sympathetically. Garak presents it like just another light-hearted comment, but like all of Garak’s lies, there’s a sliver of truth stitched into it. Julian genuinely wishes that _holding him_ could be enough to assuage Garak’s perpetual discomfort. 

It’s not. But Julian can still offer, “I’ll take a lunch break in five minutes.”

“And I’ll have a table waiting,” Garak muses, still smiling as he goes.


End file.
